


Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Milkovich

by LeeJean



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gifts, Happily Ever After Shameless Style, Kash Karib can fuck right off, Letters, M/M, Marriage, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Post-Season/Series 10, Post-Wedding, chosen family, domestic bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeJean/pseuds/LeeJean
Summary: Mickey and Ian are newlyweds, and Mickey wants everyone to know it.“Cheers!” Sandy says, raising a glass of champagne that Carl has poured her in Franny’s Paw Patrol cup.  “To Mickey and Ian.”“To Mickey and Ian,” everyone echoes, and Ian has to swallow down the large lump in his throat before turning to Mickey and whispering “to us.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 17
Kudos: 311





	Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Milkovich

**Author's Note:**

> I just want Kash to know that Ian and Mickey are married, and happy, gosh darn it. And somehow this story was born, and got really off course.
> 
> Not beta-read.

Mickey pays Sandy to take care of the marriage announcement.“Whatever, you’re better at all that online crap than me,” Mickey says, waving his hand at Sandy.“Used to be you’d just buy a space in the newspaper for that shit.World’s gone fucking crazy.”

“I can still put it in the paper, Mick.But yeah, most people get their news online now.”

“Just make sure it’s somewhere Terry will see,” Mickey says with a sharp grin.

Sandy snorts.“Like your Dad ever read a newspaper.Guess I better contact the Guns and Ammo magazine.Maybe Terry will flip through one of those at his next PO meeting.”

“Someone will see it and let him know.Fucking prick.”Mickey bites into his piece of toast aggressively.He and Sandy are sitting in the Gallagher kitchen, enjoying the relative quiet while everyone else is gone to school or work.“He tried to shoot me on my fucking honeymoon.”

“I know,” Sandy says, uncharacteristically sweet as she ruffles Mickey’s hair.Mickey sputters and flinches away, bits of toast and jam flying onto the table.“He could have killed you.Or Ian.”

Mickey’s hand clenches tight around his coffee mug.“He’ll never touch Ian again.”Mickey glances up at his cousin.“You talk to him lately?Got any idea what he’s plannin’?”

Sandy shakes her head.“No.I’ve been staying away since the wedding.Fuck him.I can earn money other ways that don’t include working with a Homophobic Nazi.”

Mickey rubs a thumb along his bottom lip and stares into his coffee mug like it’s super fucking interesting.“Oh, yeah.Well...uh...thanks, Sandy.For...having my back.”

“Of all Terry’s dumbass boys, you’re really the only one I can stand,” Sandy says with a crooked smile. 

“Alright, don’t get all fucking mushy on me now.You know I can’t tolerate that shit.”

“Speaking of mushy, just how gay you want this announcement to be?Super fucking gay?Give Terry an aneurism gay?Or understated, Mickey and Ian gay?”

“Fuck you,” Mickey says, flipping Sandy off with both hands.“Just, make it nice, ya know?Fucking elegant or some shit.”

“Elegant or some shit.Got it, Mickey.Consider it done.”Sandy grabs the last piece of toast off Mickey’s plate and darts out the back door.“You’re welcome!” she hollers, chuckling as Mickey bitches in the kitchen behind her. 

———

_ Just Married! _

_ The family and friends of _

_ Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich _

_ and _

_ Ian Clayton Gallagher _

_ are pleased to announce their marriage. _

_ To be someone’s first love is great, _

_ to be someone’s last love is beyond perfect. _

“Where the fuck did you get that picture?” Mickey asks.The marriage announcement looks fantastic.Sandy even found a quote that kinda fits Mickey and Ian’s tumultuous relationship.But the pictures...they’re fucking perfect.Side by side shots of Ian and Mickey.On the right, a photo from their wedding, staring into each other’s eyes, holding on to each other like the world might end if they are forced to separate.On the left, the picture Mickey is pointing to, is one he’s never seen before.A shot of him and Ian on the Milkovich couch as teenagers.Mickey’s heart clenches at how young and innocent they look.Ian covered in freckles, scrawny as shit, an adorably goofy grin on his face.Mickey grubby-looking, scared as fuck of what he feels for the boy next to him, but just fucking happy to be sitting there, arms touching, sharing the same space.

“Mandy,” Sandy says.“I text and asked if she had any old photos of the two of you.”

“Wish Mandy coulda come to the wedding.Ian woulda liked that.”

“You’re not fooling anyone.You would have liked to see her too.”Sandy smiles at Mickey.“Mandy doesn’t even remember taking this.She said you and Ian probably weren’t together yet, that Ian had just started pretending to be her boyfriend.But I took one look and knew you two were already in deep.”

Mickey can’t place exactly when the photo was taken, but it was definitely after he got a tire iron to the back and they hooked up in his bedroom.And if he’s honest with himself, he was in way over his head from that moment on.“You ain’t wrong,” he says.“Thanks again, Sandy.”

———

“Mickey!What the fuck is this?” Ian bellows from the Gallagher entranceway. 

“What the fuck is what?” Mickey hollers back.He’s fresh out of the shower, trying to get dressed and ready for the day.He wasn’t expecting to be yelled at by his husband so early on a day off.

“Just...get your ass down here and look.”

Mickey throws on some boxers and sweats and hurries down the stairs.He’s met at the bottom by Ian, who is holding an armful of mail.“These are all for us,” Ian says with wide eyes.

“What the fuck?” Mickey asks, taking a step back.“Who’s trying to get a hold of us?Better not be no cops.”

“No, they look personal,” Ian says.“C’mon, let’s sit down and open one.”

They sit on the couch and exchange a look before Ian cautiously opens an envelope.He pulls out a card, from which a letter and gift card slip out onto the floor.Mickey nabs the gift card while Ian picks up the letter and reads it to himself.Mickey glances over as his husband lets out a snort, shaking his head.“What’s so fucking funny?Let me see!”

Ian passes over the note, smirking the entire time while Mickey is reading.

_ The first time I heard the name Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, the police were on the hunt for an escaped felon, and Ian was assuring me he “wasn’t getting involved in his shit.” _

_ It was a bit of a shock to find out you’d tied the knot, but I honestly could not be happier for you both.  _

_ Wishing you all the best, Trevor. _

“The fuck is Trevor?” Mickey asks when he’s done, arching his eyebrows at Ian.“Wait a fucking minute.This that ‘boyfriend’ you were blabbing about right before we fucked at the docks?And in the van?And on the road to Mexico-“

“Yeah, we get it, Mick.I’m a sucker for your ass.”

“Not just my ass.”

“No, not just your ass.Also your sparkling wit and electric personality.How great you are with people.How you know just what to say in any social situation.Your-“

“Fuck right off,” Mickey interrupts with a laugh.“If I’m so bad, why’d you marry me?”

Ian’s face turns solemn, and he says, seriously, “because I love you, Mickey Milkovich.Through everything, I’ve always loved you.No one else was right for me.”

Mickey leans in, grips the back of Ian’s neck, and pulls him forward into a bruising kiss.When they break apart, Mickey whispers, “never wanted anyone but you.”He leans his forehead against Ian’s, enjoying the rare tender moment.Then he chuckles and says, “at least this Trevor douchebag isn’t a fucking cheapskate.Dude sent us a $50 VISA gift card.”

Ian lunges forward, tackling Mickey into the sofa.“Give it here!He’s my ex-boyfriend, I should get the money.”

“Nope.Putting up with your exes is exactly why I get to keep the money,” Mickey answers playfully.“Plus there’s still a whole pile left to open. I’m sure there’s some cards for the GAP that your nerdy ass will love.”

“Fuck you Mickey,” Ian says affectionately.

“Love you too, asshole.”

———

Mickey and Carl are hanging out on the sofa playing Call of Duty when the mail arrives the next day.After the Mailperson opens the slot for the third time to shove a huge stack through, Carl pauses the game and goes to investigate.“What’s up with all this mail for you and Ian?” he asks as he shuffles through the letters with his big toe.

“You too fuckin’ lazy to just pick it up?Bring that shit over here.”Carl grumbles under his breath but does as he’s told, dropping the pile on the coffee table in front of Mickey.“Just people congratulating us on getting hitched.”

“Huh.Cool,” Carl says.“You wanna open them?”

“Nah, I should wait for Ian.”Carl’s face falls slightly, and Mickey rolls his eyes, sifting through the envelopes until he recognizes a name on the return address label.“Ok, let’s check this one out.It’s from a fucker that used to hang with my Dad, but he found Jesus or some shit in prison and went straight.”

The card in super fucking flowery with a lot of scripture bullshit printed all over it.But at the bottom is a personal message.‘ _ Proud of you, Mickey.If you ever need anything, get in touch.Danny _ ’.Mickey fights the prickling in his eyes and scoffs, “pussy.”

There’s something else in the envelope.“Here,” Mickey says, shoving the piece of paper over to Carl.“You can have this.”

Carl smiles when he sees the $20 gift certificate for Warehouse Liquors.“Thanks, man,” Carl says, giving Mickey a light punch on the shoulder.He grabs the remote and unpauses the game.They play in silence for a few minutes before Carl mumbles, “getting soft, hey?”

“Fuck you, kid,” Mickey replies, biting back a grin.

———

There’s a crowd gathered around the Gallagher table that night when Ian pushes through the back door, buckets of chicken and boxes of fries spilling out of his arms.Liam rushes to the fridge, grabs a couple 2L bottles of pop and a six pack of beer, and plops them on the counter. 

“Kinda like old times,” Ian observes, eyes skimming over the kitchen occupants.Lip and Tami are there with Fred, and they seem to be getting along for a change.Carl is grabbing a beer from the counter, watching Liam pour some orange pop.Debs is getting Franny settled in her booster chair while Sandy hands out plates and paper towels. 

And Mickey...well, Mickey’s leaning against the washing machine, watching Ian, a lazy smile on his face.His arms are bare, and Ian can see a hint of his chest tattoo above the tank Mickey’s wearing.He looks fucking amazing, and suddenly Ian’s not sure if he’s hungry anymore.He concentrates very hard on putting one foot in front of the other and making it to the table, depositing the food unscathed.

“Oh, shit!I nearly forgot.Anyone want some champagne?”Carl rushes to the fridge and grabs out a bottle, brandishing it proudly.

“Fucking champagne Carl?” Debbie asks, curling her lip.“Who are we, the Kardashians?”

“Please tell me you didn’t pick that out of someone’s trash at work,” Tami says, eyeing the bottle warily.

“Jesus, no!Can’t a guy do something nice for his family?”Everyone stares at Carl.“Ok, point taken.Well, actually, Mickey had a gift certificate and I picked up the six pack and champagne for us all.”

“Mickey had a gift certificate?” Ian asks slowly, turning to look at his husband.“How’d you get a gift certificate?”

“More fucking people congratulating us on being tied down for life,” Mickey says, pushing off the washer and sitting down at the table.“Don’t worry, I only opened the one.Saved the rest for you.”

“There’s more?” Ian asks in a slightly strangled voice.“How long is this gonna go on?How do so many people even know?”

“Umm...I asked Sandy to spread the word.”

“Paid Sandy to spread the word,” Sandy corrects.She flashes Ian a predatory grin.“You’re welcome.”

“Uh, thanks?” Ian says, still kind of confused.

“Yeah, I gave her a hundred bucks to announce our marriage.Wanna make sure the old man knows nothing could stop me from marrying your ginger ass. The gifts are kinda a nice bonus, though.”

“Cheers!” Sandy says, raising a glass of champagne that Carl has poured her in Franny’s Paw Patrol cup.“To Mickey and Ian.”

“To Mickey and Ian,” everyone echoes, and Ian has to swallow down the large lump in his throat before turning to Mickey and whispering “to us.”

“Hey, if you’re getting a bunch of gifts, maybe I should readjust my fee.” Sandy says.

“How much did all this cost you?” Ian asks.

“Nothing.Just posted the announcement in a shit-ton of places on line.Groups for felons, groups for gay rights, stuff like that.Oh, and I made an Instagram page.”

“You made an Instagram page?” Debbie asks shrilly.

“Yup.Check it out, it’s called ‘MickeyandIan4Eva’.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey groans as the rest of the table bursts out laughing.

———

When Mickey wakes up the whole bed is shaking, and he pops up, instantly on high alert.Turns out it’s just his batshit crazy husband laughing silently that’s causing all the commotion.“What the fuck are you doing up so late?” Mickey asks, rubbing at his eye with his knuckles.He checks his phone quick.“It’s 3:30 in the God Damn morning, Gallagher!What the fuck?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ian wheezes.“I couldn’t sleep.Hope you don’t mind I opened a few more of those wedding cards.”

“Nah, I don’t give a shit,” Mickey replies, rolling over to face Ian.“Only ever cared about pissing Terry off.”

“And letting people know we’re off the market?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mickey says, glad the room is so dark to hide the blush staining his cheeks at how incredible that sounds.“Stuck with me now, ain’t ya?”

“No place I’d rather be,” Ian says as he shuffles down next to Mickey and throws an arm over his waist.

Mickey presses his face into Ian’s chest. “You gonna tell me what was so fucking funny, Giggles?”

“Oh, my God Mick.”Ian grabs a card off the nightstand.“Fucking look at this!”

_ To Ian, _

_ I remember you fondly from your days at the Kash and Grab, even when you were screwing my husband.I told you that you could do better.I’m not sure the neighbourhood thug is much of a step up, but it will sure piss Kash off.Don’t worry, I know how to find him, and I’ll make sure he sees your happy news. _

_ Best wishes to you and Mickey.I hope your marriage brings you much more happiness than mine brought me. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Linda Karib  _

“Holy fuck.No fucking way,” Mickey says.

“Yup.Real blast from the past, huh?” Ian says, chuckling again.“And guess what else she sent us?”

“Do I even wanna know?”

“A $100 discount coupon for security cameras!” Ian bursts out, laughing loudly.

Mickey’s not a hundred percent sure why Ian finds that so funny, but he couldn’t give a shit.He’s too busy watching Ian’s face, cataloging his wide smile, enjoying his unbridled joy and happiness.It’s the middle of the night, and Mickey’s tired as fuck, but there’s still no place he’d rather be, and no one else he’d rather be with.

The dig about not being much of a step up from Kash still stings, though.

———

Mickey’s over the whole wedding gift thing.Most of the cards still trickling in are from people Ian knows.It is kind of nice to share the wealth, though.They give a Walmart gift card to Debbie, and one for Bed, Bath and Beyond to Tami and Lip.Mickey chuckles a little when Ian actually finds a GAP card in one of the envelopes.They pass that on to Liam so he can get some new clothes.Carl asks for the security camera discount, and Ian hands it over gladly, his only stipulation that Carl never discloses what he uses the cameras for. 

Mickey’s definitely not expecting the large box dropped off by FedEx, labelled ‘ _To Mr. Ian and Mrs. Mickey Gallagher, from the Milkoviches.’_ Mickey’s not sure what he’s more surprised by, the fact that someone in their family knows how to use a courier service, or that they were willing to pay for it. 

“Think it’s a bomb?” Carl asks when Mickey sets it on the coffee table.They are just sitting down around the tv for Gallagher family movie night, and the only reason Mickey agreed to that shit was Ian’s promise that they could watch Justice League.Jason Momoa and Henry Cavill in the same movie?Yeah, that’s a good trade off for putting up with his husband’s chaotic family for a few hours.

Sandy comes out of the kitchen, balancing a bowl of popcorn in one arm and Franny on her hip. Debbie’s trailing behind, bringing cans of coke and beer.“It better not be. Let me text Jamie real quick.”Sandy passes the popcorn to Liam, whose sitting on the far end of the couch from Mickey.Mickey leans over Ian obnoxiously, elbowing him in the ribs a little to grab a handful of popcorn.“Jamie says it’s safe to open.But he also says he’s sorry, Mick.”

“Just fucking open it,” Mickey says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’ll do it,” Debbie says, depositing the cans onto the table.She rips open the tape on the box, open the flap, and says, “holy shit!”

Sandy peers over her shoulder.Her eyes widen at the contents.“Um.Wow.”Sandy strides over to Carl and practically throws Franny in his lap.“You get to stay up late and watch the movie with your Uncle Carl tonight, Franny.And have a sleepover in his room.Your mommy and I are gonna be very busy.”Sandy grabs the box and starts towards the stairs, Debbie hot on her heels.

“Wait!What’s in the fucking box, Sandy?” Mickey demands.

“Just shit you wouldn’t be interested in,” she says.“But here, have a look.”

She tosses something at Mickey, and he catches it automatically.He looks down at the magazine he’s now holding. _Lesbian Love _ the title proclaims, and there’s a women licking another chick’s snatch on the cover.“Jesus fucking Christ, is the whole box full of this shit?”

“Yup.And a note that says ‘ _This is what real men like, you fucking fairy_ ’.”

“Or real women,” Debbie says with a smirk.Sandy grabs her hand and pulls her the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Gross,” Liam states.“Can we watch the movie now?”

“Yes, please,” Ian agrees.“Toss me a beer, would ya?”

They get to the end of the previews before Carl says, “hey, Mickey?Could I, uh, have that magazine?I mean, you and Ian don’t want it, right?”

“Dude,” Ian says, his face scrunched up is disgust.“No!You’re sleeping with Franny tonight.”

“Oh, right,” Carl says, dejected.

“You can have it tomorrow, man,” Mickey says with a wink.Carl shoots him a wide smile.

“Gross,” Liam says again.“Shut up and watch the movie.”He passes the popcorn across Ian, saying, “want more, Mickey?”

Ian wraps an arm around Liam’s shoulder.Franny’s nestling into Carl’s chest, eyes drooping shut as Carl rubs her back.Ian drops his other hand to Mickey’s knee, and Mickey can’t help but think that he may have had to leave his family behind when he married Ian, but he got a pretty good one in return.

———

Ian falls asleep on the sofa, head tipped back and snoring softly, about half way through the movie.Liam’s been getting antsy since they finished off the popcorn.Judging by the number of yawns he’s let out in the last few minutes, he’s fighting off sleep too.Mickey grabs the remote and shuts off the tv.Carl looks over from the chair, a questioning look on his face.“Here, trade ya,” Mickey says, holding out the magazine.“Looks like my plans for the night are shot to shit anyway.”

Carl shoots him a lecherous grin as he gently places a passed-out Franny into Mickey’s arms.Liam shuffles to his feet, mutters, “try to keep the wanking noise down,” and stumbles upstairs to his room.Carl’s hot on his heels, taking the stairs two at a time, magazine clutched to his chest.Mickey grabs the old crochet blanket off the back of the couch and settles it over Ian before heading upstairs himself.He places Franny on their bed, and once he’s situated under the covers, she scoots back into him, letting out a contented sigh.Mickey pushes the hair off her forehead and whispers, “good night, gingerbread.”

Ian is in the bed next to him when he wakes, his back against the wall, Franny splayed out over the top of his lap and legs.The sun is just starting to creep through the blinds and brighten up the room.Ian’s concentrating really hard, and he doesn’t move when Mickey begins to stir, stretching his legs and neck.“Hey, whatcha doin’?” Mickey mutters, words tumbling sleepily out of his mouth .

Ian starts, jumping a bit on the bed and jostling Franny, who tilts off his legs and ends up smooshed between Mickey and Ian.She huffs once before jamming her face into Mickey’s thigh and settling back down. 

“Nothing,” Ian replies, voice high and tight.Mickey may only be half awake, but he’s alert enough to see Ian slowly move one hand, pushing a light blue piece of paper under his pillow.“Just going through the last of the wedding cards.Hopefully it’s dying down.”

“Yeah?” Mickey asks, keeping his voice nonchalant.“Anything interesting today?”

“Nope,” Ian says, looking down at Mickey’s face but not quite meeting his eye.His gaze shifts to Franny, and he says, “I’m gonna go start breakfast.Meet you downstairs with the little rugrat in a few?”

“I’m not a fucking babysitter,” Mickey grouses.Usually Ian would smile when Mickey acts all gruff and grumpy, but today he just sweeps out of their room, totally distracted.

“Why’s your uncle fucking lying to me, huh?” Mickey asks Franny’s sleeping form.It fucking sucks.They’ve never been the best at communicating, not with words at any rate, but it still leaves Mickey feeling wrong-footed and unsure.Should he look at the paper?

“Fuck it,” Mickey decides, groping under Ian’s pillow for the letter.

_What were you thinking, Ian?You MARRIED Mickey Milkovich?He’s a convicted felon!He went to jail for attempted murder.The intended victim was your half sister.He’s a loser, he’s always been a loser, and he always will be a loser.You had so much potential.You could do so much better than that career criminal._

_Look, I know you had a little trouble with the law yourself, but that’s no reason to tie yourself to a man who willingly tried to kill somebody, and then escaped from prison.Mickey is a psychopath.Don’t throw your life away._

_I’m worried about you, Ian.I can’t help but think you’ve gotten in over your head, and don’t know how to get out of the situation safely. If you are in trouble or need some help, please contact me.My life is in a much better place now, and I’d be more than willing to help you.I was your first love, after all._

_Love Kash_

Mickey robotically returns the letter to its hiding place under Ian’s pillow.He gets up and pulls on some clothes, wakes Franny up and sends her to the washroom, heads down the stairs to the kitchen, all on auto-pilot.Ian doesn’t even glance up from the frying pan, and his shoulders tighten with tension as Mickey opens the fridge to grab a carton of juice.

Eventually everyone crowds around the table, and the kitchen becomes loud and boisterous.Ian seems to settle, even sitting next to Mickey and throwing an arm around the back of his chair, before stealing a piece of bacon for Mickey off Carl’s plate when the other boy isn’t looking.

But Ian’s still quieter than normal, and Mickey can tell by the look in his eyes that something is weighing heavily on his mind.And he really fucking hopes that Ian isn’t deciding, less than two weeks after their wedding, that everyone’s right after all, and he’s just too fucking good for Mickey.

———

The worst fucking part of Kash’s letter is how casually it implies that Mickey would willingly harm Ian.Like, physically abuse his husband.Mickey’s not sure if Kash is trying to get back in Ian’s pants, or if he actually thinks Mickey is capable of committing violence against the man he loves.The latter is worse, for sure, especially if that’s what other people think, looking in on their turbulent relationship from the outside.

Mickey usually doesn’t give a fuck about what people think.But Ian’s been oddly quiet for the last few days, staring at Mickey when he thinks he’s not looking.Mickey’s asked if his meds are still working, and Ian gave him a shaky smile and a quick hug and assured him that everything was fine.

Two days of weirdness is too much for Mickey.He can’t tip-toe around his own husband anymore, living in fear of what he thinks.He’s given Ian enough time to get his head on straight.He needs to confront this, head on, and deal with the consequences, like he’s done all his life.He settles on the couch to wait for Ian to get home. 

Ian heads to the shower right after work.Mickey gives him a few minutes before he slips into the bathroom and sits down on the toilet.“Hey, Ian.You doing alright?”

Ian doesn’t answer for a long while, and Mickey’s wondering if maybe he didn’t hear the question over the noise of the water, when he finally says, “I’m ok.Why’d you ask?”

Mickey lets out a huff of air.“Jesus, man.You’ve been quiet and shit for the last couple of days.Not yourself, you know?”

“You noticed that?”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

Ian sticks his head out the front of the shower curtain.“You’re a pretty fucking perfect husband, you know that, Mick?” 

The stress Mickey’s been carrying the last couple of days rolls off his body.“Yeah, right.Fucking ex-con working security for a handful of dollars an hour.I’m a real fucking catch.”

“Yeah.You sure are,” Ian says with a dopey grin, and Mickey’s transported back to the start of their relationship, when Ian used to give him the stupidest smiles, and Mickey used to pretend not to notice.Ian’s grins still have the ability to flip Mickey’s stomach, make his heart stammer.“I’ll be out in a minute.Hey, you aren’t taking a shit right now, are ya?”

“No I’m not taking a fucking shit,” Mickey replies, sounding insulted.

“Didn’t think so.It’s not 8:15 yet.Glad you haven’t been thrown off your shitting schedule since getting out of the joint.”There’s a teasing note to Ian’s voice, a happiness that’s been missing since Kash’s letter. Mickey’s so fucking happy to hear it back.

“You’re a fucking dick,” Mickey says, trying to contain his smile.

Ian pushes aside the shower curtain and steps out onto the bath mat, wrapping a towel around his waist.“You love my fucking dick.”He cocks his head and shoots an amused grin at Mickey.Mickey shakes his head, bites his inner cheek to stifle a laugh.Ian steps forward and bends down, placing a peck onto the top of Mickey’s head.“I really am ok, though.Thanks for asking.Just some bullshit from the past came back up.”

“Something I can help deal with, or...?”

Ian pulls back and studies Mickey for a moment before saying, “nah.The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not worth my time.Sorry if I’ve been acting a little off.”

“And we’re good.Right?” Mickey pushes, wanting to put the whole fucking ordeal firmly behind them.

“Of course we fucking are!Jesus, Mick.I’ll tell you when you piss me off, don’t worry.I’m not one to keep my anger at you bottled up.”

“I know,” Mickey admits.“Just, all these fucking wedding cards.They’ve gotten a little overwhelming, you know?Reading what some assholes think of our relationship?”Because even without admitting he’s read Kash’s letter, there were more than enough people writing to ‘congratulate’ Ian, while also stealthily questioning what he was thinking when he agreed to marry Mickey Milkovich.

“Yeah, maybe.Fuck ‘em.”Ian says.He extends a hand down to Mickey, and pulls him up from the toilet.“Look, Milkovich.I married you because I love you.More than anything.No fucking letter from an ex-boyfriend, or a homophobic relative, or a Gay Jesus groupie is gonna change that.”Ian brings his arms up around Mickey’s shoulders, and Mickey wraps his arms around Ian’s waist.

“You’re such a pussy,” Mickey mumbles into Ian’s shoulder.Ian’s slick and wet and smells like strawberry shower gel.Mickey wants to jump into his arms.

“I am not.You hate pussy.And you love me.”

“Yeah, I fucking do,” Mickey says.“So....we done chitchatting?”

“Race you to the bedroom,” Ian says, letting his towel drop and stumbling out of the bathroom, walking cast abandoned, hopping on his one good leg.“Loser gives the winner a blowjob.”

“No fucking fair!” Mickey yells.He could catch up with his gimpy husband pretty easily, but he’s not really concerned.Giving Ian a blowjob ain’t exactly a punishment. When he reaches the bedroom, Ian’s spread out on their bed, naked and still a little damp from the shower.He’s got his cock in his hand, and is stroking it lazily.Mickey closes the door and leans back, taking in the sight of his beautiful fucking husband, ready and waiting for him.“You win,” Mickey says, as he approaches the bed and crawls between Ian’s legs.

“Yeah, I did,” Ian says, running a hand through Mickey’s hair.“I really did win when I met you, Mick.”

———

A few days later, Mickey spies a crumpled piece of distinctive light blue paper in the trash can in the corner of their room.The actual letter part appears much longer, like someone added a note to the bottom.He knows he should leave it alone - him and Ian are good - but his curiosity gets the better of him.He grabs the paper out of the garbage and smooths it out with the heel of his hand.

Kash’s bullshit’s still there, taunting Mickey.But underneath are lines written by Ian in dark black ink, most scratched out.

_~~ You don’t even know Mickey ~~ _

_~~ You’re one to talk about attempted murder, you shot Mickey because you were jealous ~~ _

_~~ Mickey was my first love.I never loved you ~~ _

_~~ Fuck you Kash, running out on Linda and your kids, Mickey would never ~~ _

Mickey takes a big gulp of breath, pulling it past the lump in his chest.Jesus, he hit the fucking jackpot when he stole that asshole’s gun and Ian showed up at his house. 

The next bit is in blue ink, and looks much less aggressive, probably written once Ian had a chance to calm down.

_ The best revenge is: _

_ 1.no revenge, just forget they exist _

_ 2.living a happy, good life _

The lines are circled multiple times, like Ian wants to emphasize the points until he believes them himself.Mickey shakes his head, rolls his eyes internally.They are so different, sometimes.Ian’s so much better at plotting and planning, taking people’s feelings and motivations into account.Mickey’s more tactile.He likes things you can see and touch. 

Mickey would probably just beat the shit out of Kash and get on with his life.He’ll have to trust Ian that his non-violent solution is better.Plus, living a happy life with Ian ain’t too much of a hardship.

———

Ian catches Sandy on the back step, enjoying a beer and a cigarette.He sits down next to her and lights his own, staring into the alley behind their house.

“Can I help you?” Sandy asks archly, turning her neck to look at Ian with raised eyebrows.Her mannerisms remind him so much of Mickey that Ian can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, I think you can.Lots of people make anniversary announcements, right?”

“Rich people, sure,” Sandy says.She takes a swig of beer.“Like when they reach ten, twenty five, fifty years married.So, you got...about nine years and eleven months before you gotta worry about it.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing,” Ian says, grinning at Sandy conspiratorially.“See, Mickey and I just love each other so fucking much, I don’t think we can wait that long.I think we should celebrate every year.”

“And by celebrate you mean...?”

Ian hands Sandy a handful of bills.“I mean make sure people remember just how happy and in love we are.Every God Damned year.Make up a sappy announcement, use a new fucking picture of us being cute as shit together, and post it all over the place.Really rub our joy in everyone’s faces.”

Sandy smiles back at Ian.“Fuck, yes.I’m in.”Sandy examines Ian for a second before asking, “Do I want to know why?”

“Because Mickey deserves it,” Ian replies with feeling.

———

** Eleven Months and Two Weeks Later **

Sandy sends a text to Ian:

_ Mickey and Ian _

_ One year down, _

_ the rest of our lives to go _

The picture is a simple shot of Ian and Mickey in the kitchen, Ian sitting up on the countertop with Mickey leaning back between his legs.Ian’s got his arms wrapped around Mickey’s chest, and his chin rests on Mickey’s head.They are laughing so hard, Mickey’s eyes are shut and crinkled in the corners.

They look happy. And so in love.

Ian texts back: _it’s perfect. post it_

Ian puts down his phone and smiles as he pops some bread and the toaster and gets the coffee brewing.One year down.It’s been a bit of a bumpy ride, but Ian wouldn’t change it for anything.“Ey, Mick!Get your ass down here and get some breakfast.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.Jesus, someone’s fucking bossy today,” Mickey grumbles as he steps off the stairs and into the kitchen.“And keep it down, tough guy.You’re gonna wake the whole house.”

“Don’t worry about that.We got the place to ourselves today.”Ian turns around, walking over to Mickey and handing him a cup of black coffee and a plate of toast smothered in jam, just how he likes it.“Happy anniversary, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Oh, really?” Mickey asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up.“Well, happy fucking anniversary, Mr. Milkovich.Got any plans?”

“Was gonna make my husband some breakfast,” Ian says, planting a peck onto Mickey’s lips.“Then I thought I’d go back to bed.If you know what I mean?”Ian wiggles his eyebrows at Mickey in an exaggerated manner.

“You are such a fucking dork,” Mickey says, mouth widening in a smile.He watches Ian start some more toast as he inches towards the stairs.“Yeah, I could go back to bed.Hey, race you there!Loser gives the winner a rim job!”

“Are you kidding me?Cheater!” Ian yells after his husband.He doesn’t even try to catch up, instead waiting for his toast to finish before he makes his way to their bedroom.“You win.”

Mickey bites his lip as he beckons Ian to join him on their bed.“We both fucking won, Gallagher.”

Ian knows he’s talking about more than the rim job.He buries his head into the crook of Mickey’s neck and says,” yeah, guess we did.”


End file.
